Missing Scene, Frame Up
by Centroides
Summary: What happened to Chief while the others were being conned by the Duchess?
1. Chapter 1

**Missing Scene 'Frame Up'**

Chapter 1

It was supposed to have been 'a piece of cake', parachute in, steal a car, drive to their destination, arrange a meet, get the documents and leave. The first part had gone as planned according to the recipe. They had reached their destination and arranged a meet but then the cake fell. Casino, Goniff and Actor had stayed with the car while Garrison and Chief, for back up, had gone to the meet. Instead of their agent, there had been soldiers. The two men had fled. The plan had them leaving out the back of the building, down a lane and then to the car they had arrived in but somewhere along the way they realized they were about to be cut off. There were soldiers up ahead and shots were fired. Their best bet was to give them the slip.

Garrison had seen a grate near the middle which he figured would lead them to another exit. If they could get down before the soldiers caught up to them then they were safe. While Chief held them back with machine gun fire Garrison opened the grate and scrambled down, moving out of the way for his scout to enter the underground passage. Unfortunately the soldiers were braver or more motivated to catch them than Chief had figured. They came around the corner before he had a chance to drop down the hole so he fired off a burst to give him time. Before they died one got off a lucky shot. He felt the burn as the bullet slammed home into this right leg. Clenching his teeth he manoeuvred around so he could get down to the relative safety of the underground tunnel. It was too far to drop without risking further damage so he stepped onto the ladder. His leg hurt like hell but putting pressure on it made it worse. There was no helping that unless he wanted to stay there and be taken prisoner so he moved as fast as he could. Once down, Garrison helped ease him to the floor where he sat clutching his leg. Their leader had seen the way his team mate moved and knew he was hit so he understood when Chief snapped at him. The pain was so bad Chief had trouble getting up but with Garrison's help he made it to his feet. Together they made their way down the subterranean passage.

Garrison found the next exit but while he was trying to open the grate the remaining soldiers closed in. Chief knew they were in trouble. There was no way he could out run them and now he was out of ammo. Fortunately Garrison had a grenade which ended the pursuit. Eventually the pair found a grate that was not bolted and they were able to make their escape. It took Garrison a moment when they surfaced to figure out where they were and how to get back to where the others were waiting with the car. Their biggest fear, getting stopped by soldiers before they reached the car, did not materialize and they made it back. Garrison opened the back door for Chief then got in front with Casino. Their drive back was uneventful.

Four hours later they were stopped by an Allied patrol. Once Garrison had identified himself the patrol leader, Sargeant Dirks, offered to take Chief with them back to their lines. They were heading that way anyway. Chief agreed and seeing as other than being in pain he seemed to be doing all right, the men separated, Chief and the patrol headed back to their lines and Garrison and the other gorillas turned around for another attempt to get the information they had come for. Goniff was all for staying with Chief because, "well, what if he needs us for somethin'?" but Garrison overruled him and they separated.

By the time the patrol reached the aid station Chief became just one in a mess of casualties. The Sargent had him placed with the others but by just looking around he knew the kid would be waiting for a long time. Good thing his wound didn't look bad. With a wave and a "Good Luck" the patrol was off again.

Chief lay still, there wasn't much else he could do. Garrison would be half way back to that retched town and an agent that might have turned and double crossed them. Damn he wished he was going with them to protect them and maybe punch out that agent who got him shot.

Triage saw him left to the last. Just seeing the carnage around him with bloody chests and abdomens, missing limbs and heads wrapped in bloody bandages was enough. He knew they needed help more than he did. He waited. Someone brought him another blanket but no food or drink. That was all right by him, he couldn't eat when he was nervous and right now he was in too much pain to eat. Finally two orderlies came to get him. It was his turn at last.

Pain dragged him awake. His leg was on fire and his head was fit to explode. Shit! He had been shot before and it hadn't hurt this bad. Something must have gone wrong. A horrible thought came to him and he raised his head to look. The additional pain from the movement prevented any relief he might have felt that both his legs were still there. He lay back and tried to fight the pain. If he could only sleep but the pain pounded on.

Nurse Agnes MacKenzie had the night shift. She didn't mind, she had always been a night person. Besides it was usually fairly quiet. Tonight was not. With the influx of wounded, there were a lot of patients to check, charts to read and medication to dispense. Most of the patients were asleep but occasionally one woke up and needed a bit of reassurance. This was the case with the man in bed four. He had a shrapnel wound to the shoulder. He woke up complaining of pain but when she checked his chart he was not due for another shot for three hours. That was a long time to make him wait but she had no authority to give him another dose. She would wait and then if he didn't fall asleep she would call the doctor. Five minutes later a second soldier call out. He too had already had a shot about an hour ago. That was strange. The man in the bed next to him also seemed to be in distress. That was too much. She asked the orderly on duty to get the doctor.

Major Donald Aichen was Army through and through. He was also a good surgeon. He examined the patients and knew there was a problem. Either they had not had the medication that was marked on their charts or the dose that had been given was not the correct one. The patient in bed four was one of his and he knew it had been administered because he had given it. That left one other possibility, the medication had been tampered with. Where that had happened and by whom was not his concern. These men were in real pain. Unfortunately with the number of patients there was only one way to determine who had got the tampered doses. Ask them.

Chief was only partially conscious of the hushed voices and extra personnel moving about. He had more important things to deal with, the pain. A voice and a hand on his shoulder forced his eyes open but only part way. The voice wanted to know if he was in excess pain. He was but he was not about to admit it. He could handle the pain. Years ago a bully had twisted his arm and asked if it hurt. At first he had said yes but the bully had twisted it harder. When he said no then the bully gave up and finally left him alone.

Chief didn't want to move his head but didn't trust his voice so he turned his head slightly to each side and the voice and hand moved off. He went back to trying to deal with the pain.

The ward finally quieted down, the Doctor left and Nurse MacKenzie finished the charts. She made her rounds and then sat and enjoyed the cup of tea the orderly had brought. Some time later she prepared for another med pass. Patient three, leg wound, required penicillin and morphine. His eyes were closed, his breathing shallow so she assumed he was sleeping. She prepared the shot then sat down beside the patient but when she took his arm to do the injection she felt his skin. Something was wrong. His skin was cold and clammy. She replaced the syringe on the cart and checked the patient more carefully. His pupils were dilated, his pulse was weak and rapid. The patient was in shock. "David. Get Doctor Aichen, stat!"


	2. Chapter 2

**Missing Scene**

**Chapter 2**

Within five minutes Chief was rushed into the OR where the Doctor checked him for other injuries. Had be missed internal bleeding or some other injury? There was nothing, no indication of the cause. Then he remembered the morphine. "Did he receive any of the tampered morphine?"

"No. He said he wasn't in pain."

There was no other explanation. "Well, he obviously was," snarled the doctor. "You didn't ask him, did you?" he demanded as he glared at the offender. He would not tolerate incompetence especially when it put a patients life in danger.

"Yes, I did. I specifically remember asking him. He shook his head, indicating no." In her anger her brogue became more noticeable. She would not tolerate anyone questioning her nursing abilities or her word.

The Doctor did not want to believe her but she could not tell the good doctor that she specifically remembered him because she thought he was cute and made sure he was well looked after so she suggested the only other thing she could think of. Her brother. "Maybe he's the hero type and didn't want to admit it."

Doctor Aichen snorted but stopped glaring. He had to admit she had a point. He had met a few of those in his day, maybe not to this extent, but it was very possible.

Together they tended the patient and soon had him properly medicated and wrapped in blankets with hot water bottles. Within an hour he had been returned to post op.

Nurse MacKenzie had completed the rest of her shift with no more excitement.

The day shift had arrived and she was due for some breakfast and sleep but she had one more thing to do. As she had been doing all through her shift, she stopped by bed number 2, the hero patient as she had dubbed him. He had recovered enough that the hot water bottles had been removed but the extra blankets had stayed as had the pillow under his uninjured foot. She sat and watched him for a bit. His colour was looking much better and his breathing had eased. He looked so relaxed and peaceful now. She reached out and pushed back the lock of hair that had fallen on to his forehead. His eyes opened and after a moment he managed to focus them on her. Having checked the pupils earlier she knew his eyes were dark but seeing them open was so much more pleasant. They were the colour of rich dark chocolate, warm and inviting. She smiled and the face around those eyes smiled back at her. "Good morning" she said warmly. The owner of those wonderful looking eyes mumbled something in reply.

"You know you shouldn't lie to your nurse when she asks if you're in pain." Chief's confusion showed. "I had to tell the doctor you're the hero type, but you know, you almost died."

Now Chief was confused. He felt like his brain was wrapped in blankets just like his body. He could make little sense from what he could hear. Maybe he was just dreaming this. He closed his eyes and let go.

Agnes watched the eyes close. Well, he needed rest more than company so she rose and went out.

"Ambulance is here, Major." Corporal Henny had done this many times before. It was his job to taxi the wounded from the Forward Aid Units to the rear where they would be shipped to England. He liked his job, nobody shot at him and he got to drive. Life was good.

"All right, load them up." Major Aichen recounted the men to be moved. The serious ones went first. As of last night they had a full run but one man had died about an hour ago. There was now one more space. The closest bed still occupied was bed two so he indicated that he be included on this trip.

Agnes MacKenzie, having had her breakfast, was returning to her tent. She was not on duty but after looking after the patients she did like to see them off. It gave her a kind of closure. Some of the serious ones might die later but at least she saw them off alive. Seeing as this was the first truck to go she knew they were the serious ones, the ones most in need of proper facilities, so she was surprised to see her hero going. His stretcher had been brought out and was now waiting to be loaded. She walked over and squatted down beside him. "Hello there."

The patient tried to raise himself up on his elbows but the restraints held. "Can you undo this, please?"

Agnes marvelled at the sound of his voice. It was as smooth and gentle as his eyes. She wished he would say more just so she could listen to his voice and look into his eyes. "It's for your own safety. The road is not always smooth."

"It's too tight. I don't like being tied like this." A slight frown marred his face as he eyed the restraint.

"Well," she looked around to be sure no one was watching her, "maybe just a little. Now don't you be telling anyone I did this. We're not supposed to."

"Thanks." He looked up at her. The sun was behind her illuminating the edges of her dark red hair, hair that she had left loose to curl gently over her shoulders. Chief watched the fire-haired angel with the smiling green eyes and wished he was not going. He would like to just lay there and listen to the sound of her voice, her accent and feel her touch him again.

"One more thing. I don't know how much you remember from earlier but it's OK to admit you're in pain, you know. No one will think less of you if you do. You could of died."

Chief smiled. Yes, he could have died but it was never OK to admit your were in pain. That was how they got you. This was something he understood but he doubted she would so he said nothing, just nodded.

Finally his stretcher was loaded at the very back, bottom level and the truck engine roared to life. They were under way. Chief closed his eyes and tried to sleep but the motion was not conducive. In fact the jostling, bouncing and the odd whiff of exhaust fumes was having a detrimental effect on the patient above him. There was retching then results which ran over the side of the cot and down on to the edge of his. Chief tried to lay over to the other side but the cots were narrow. He had gone from Heaven to Hell and there was nothing he could do about it.

Time passed slowly until there was a sudden swerve and Chief's world lost it's axis heaving violently over, then slammed to a halt, rocked momentarily and stopped. There was absolute silence for several heartbeats then the moans and cries of wounded men started.

Chief had actually been saved from more serious injury by the loosened restraint and the vomit which had caused and allowed him to snuggled up to the

side wall of the bus, which was now the bottom. Instead of whiplash he had a bump on the side of his head.

Chief took stock, found he was basically unhurt and began to get himself out. By dragging himself up he got his arm out from under the restraint and then released it. Releasing the lower one he hauled himself up to a vertical position. He had to wait a moment for the dizziness to subside, then looked around assessing the situation. The medic lay sprawled across two of the stretchers. "Hey." Other than moans and groans there was no answer. He looked to be the only one moving. The air was thick with dust, eau de vomit, and the coppery tang of blood. There was also the smell of gasoline.

If there was a fire, how many of them could he get out? He looked at the setup that held the stretchers in place. They were meant to be secure, not evac ready. Especially by a one legged man on drugs. There weren't going to be many leaving alive. Help for the wounded laying sideways on their stretchers he knew nothing about, engine fires he knew. Best he go see to the engine.

The medic had not moved and as much as he wanted to check on him it was going to be just too hard to get to him. Besides with the smell and his own nausea he wanted out. He turned to the back. The doors had come unlatched and the right one was laying open. He lowered himself down and dragged himself out. Behind the bus was a dirt road, dirt that had been stirred up and now hung heavy in the air. Off to the side was an abandoned field and a large woodlot. He thought about seeing if he could find a stick to use as a crutch or at least a cane but he felt so weak. Maybe he would wait a bit. He dragged himself around to the side and that was when he noticed the holes in the roof. They ran in a line from the cab to the back. He knew what that meant, Aircraft fire. He looked skyward but there was no sign of danger. He heard nothing either.

Did these things have a radio? Maybe he could radio for help. He dragged himself to the cab. The windshield was gone, disintegrated, the driver, or what was left of him was all over. Chief looked away. He had no desire to crawl over what was left of a bloody body. He would wait.


	3. Chapter 3

**Missing Scene**

**Chapter 3**

Exhausted from all the movement, he sat leaning against the roof, now side of the bus and tried breathing deeply. The air was still dusty but he hoped the air would clear his head a bit. There was no other choice. If help didn't come soon he would have to crawl in there and look for a radio.

As was his habit, his continued watch picked up the signs of motion along the side of the road near the back. Now on alert he watched as a dog of indeterminate parentage slunk out of the field and headed his way. A dog might mean people so he waited and watched. A second dog appeared following the first. There was something different about these dogs, these weren't farm dogs, these were pack dogs, dogs that had been abandoned and left to fend for themselves. They had reverted to their wild state and could not be trusted. Chief hauled himself to his feet. Sitting he was a dead man. At least on his feet he had a chance. Except he had no weapon, not a stick, a rock, nothing. He pulled his shirt off and twisted it so he was holding the cuffs. All he could hope was to beat them off. Except they weren't coming for him. They were headed for the back, and the open door where the injured were laying unable to defend themselves.

Chief yelled and forced himself to move to the door. As he got there he saw the back end of a dog entering. He dropped the shirt and lunged for the legs grabbing and holding on. The animal reacted in shock by turning and snapping at the sudden constriction. Fortunately for Chief there was not enough room for the animal to grab him but fear made the dog decide to abandon his foray. Meanwhile its companions saw the prone figure and attacked. One sank his teeth into Chief ankle. Pain screamed up his leg forcing him to release the fleeing animal. He jackknifed back to make a grab for his leg and the biter let go. Chief yelled and flailed his arms in an attempt to drive off the other animals. He is marginally successful, enough that he was able to retrieve his shirt and haul himself to his feet. Four dogs darted about just out of reach as he leaned heavily on the back of the bus. They are looking for an opening, one he can't afford to give.

A small brown terrier type made a wild dash in at his injured ankle and Chief whipped the shirt around catching the dog on the head but the action had put him off balance and he nearly fell. A second dog came in from the other side forcing Chief to twist suddenly. He was not fast enough and the swing missed but the dog didn't. He grabbed onto the shirt and held on bracing all four legs against Chief's one and a half. Again while his attention was diverted the little brown dog attacked and this time grabbed the same ankle as before. Pain from the bite caused him to shift his weight and with a gentle tug by the dog, Chief went down hard landing on the open door, the handle digging in to his ribs.

Chief was never a quitter. Even when he was down he fought on. Casino, with his superior strength, had always had a hard time against Chief's wiry frame and shear unflagging determination. Right now Chief was in a potentially fatal position, wounded, down, under a pack of hungry wild dogs. He fought on, rolling over to free his hands he grabbed, bit, twisted and kicked with both legs. Gradually the assaults lessened then stopped when the last one broke away and ran around the bus. Chief, still high on adrenalin hauled himself to his feet, looking for the next attack. It didn't come but he heard the snapping and snarling coming from the front. Occasionally there were cries of pain as they turned on each other. The dogs had found the driver. There was no help for that.

All he could do was stand there panting from the exertion, trying not to think about the pain in his leg. Finally after a time the sounds ease then stop. He watched the last of the dogs trot off into the field.

The adrenalin now spent, Chief slid down the back corner of the bus and leaned against it. He was exhausted. His bullet wound was bleeding and so was his ankle and several other places where the dogs had gotten him. His body was exhausted, he had nothing left to fight with but he couldn't quit so he watched. He watched the sky for planes, the trees for more dogs or other scavengers and he watched the road. It did not take long for the vultures to start circling.

Not long after he spotted another dog trotting up the road. He laughed manically then yelled to dog. "You're too late you stupid bastard."

The dog circled the bus and came back. He approached cautiously then sat and watched. Chief realized that the cur wasn't late. Maybe he was early. A chill went up his spine as he pictured the cur chewing his leg off. With that in mind Chief struggled until he finally stood. He wouldn't last long but he would go out fighting.

What seemed like hours later Chief heard a jeep. In his mind he knew he should hide until he knew which side it was on but he couldn't make himself care. He stayed where he was and waited. Fortunately it was an American Jeep. Help had arrived.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Chief regained consciousness slowly, the drugs reluctant to release their hold, his body, reluctant to face reality. The reality included pain, pain in his leg that was to be expected but included new pain, in his stomach and head. It felt as if he had been suckered in the gut and then fallen and hit his head. That confused him because he hadn't been a fight at least not that he could remember. The dogs. He had been bitten but only on his leg. He had driven them off. He had fallen but he had landed on his side. He remembered the medics arriving, loading him into the truck. Why did his stomach hurt?

Reluctantly he opened his eyes_. _There was an MP sitting beside the bed. Chief was confused. He had been with the team long enough that they had each garnered some trust. There were still guards at the estate where they were billeted but Garrison allowed them to go to the local pub by themselves. Casino had told them that Garrison had no choice, they either went with his permission by themselves or without his permission by themselves. Chief preferred to think Garrison trusted them enough to let them go. Why was he under guard now? He waited.

"I need to ask you some questions about what happened on the bus." There was no inflection to indicate Chief's status. Was he just a neutral witness or a suspect? Chief had little experience with the first and lots with the second. Even when he had been innocent he had been a suspect. He had been belligerent and defended himself but he had learned a thing or two from being on Garrison's team. He would play this like Actor would and assume an air of innocence. Again he waited.

"Tell me what happened."

"We were about twenty minutes out when the bus was strafed. It crashed."

"You heard it? Do you know what kind of plane it was?"

Chief shook his head. "Couldn't hear anything over the engine and road noise but I saw the bullet holes in the roof. Got the driver too. "

"You saw the driver?" the MP was suspicious. "Was he alive?"

Again Chief shook his head. "He was shot up too bad. No way he survived."

"Didn't you check?" There was a trace of anger in his voice now.

"Didn't have to." Anger crept into his voice too. Chief hated being called a liar. He knew a dead body when he saw it. "His head was blown apart."

"Then what did you do?"

"A few minutes later a couple a dogs showed up. Starving. I tried to scare them off but one almost got in the back before I got there."

"Where were you when the dogs showed up?" interrupted the guard.

"Comin' back from the cab."

"Took you that long to get back? Long enough for a dog to almost get in with the wounded?"

As much as he wanted to remain calm Chief was angry. What was he being accused of. "Yeah. My fuckin' leg hurt."

The MP reined back the anger and continued. "Then what?"

Chief also took a deep breath to calm himself. "It was just goin' in when I got there an' I pulled it out then kept the others off." Chief raised his hand to rub his face but felt the tremors. Not wanting to reveal his weakness he lowered his hand to his chest and continued. "A couple of um snuck off and went round the front. The rest went too."

"And you did nothing to help him."

Chief's anger flared again in response to the MP's. He was being accused again and he hated it. He would not be their scapegoat again. Anger gave him strength and he sat up, ignoring the pain that movement caused in his leg. "He was Dead! I told you, nothing' I could do!" The memories were still fresh and he could feel himself begin to shake. He sagged back and closed his eyes. The MP left.

So they were trying to pin the driver's death on him. Bastards! He wondered if Garrison could get him off on this one. Exhaustion overtook him and he slept only to dream of prison. He was standing in the common area while dead half devoured corpses danced around him demanding to know why hadn't he saved them, why had he let the dogs eat them. Then they turned into dogs and began to tear at his legs. One went for this face and he turned and raised his hands to protect himself but the dog grabbed his wrists and held on. He was fighting for his life.

.


	5. Chapter 5

Missing Scene, Frame up

Chapter 5

Nurse Angela Kenton had been with the Medical Unit for almost a year so she was accustomed to working with soldiers. Even so she was surprised momentarily by the sudden explosion on her hands. She knew to continue to hold would frighten the sleeper so she released him and leaned back in case he swung out at her. He didn't, though he did look around frantically as his eyes opened.

"It's all right. You're safe here. You're in the hospital." She watched as he calmed down and then with a final look on the floor on each side of the bed he lay still and turned to look at her. He was a good looking young man, dark hair, dark eyes, eyes that were troubled even though the fear was receding. Then as she watched even that disappeared. The two remained still, eyes locked until she broke contact.

"Are you all right now?" she asked as she straightened his blanket. It was not really necessary but she had to do something. "I assume that was quite a nightmare you had. Do you want to talk about it?"

Her patient shook his head. She got up, fetched a cup of water and held it for him. "Here drink this. It will help." She helped him sit up and he drank it gratefully. She then helped him lay back. Not knowing what else to do she checked his pulse and blood pressure and noted the details on his chart. He had closed his eyes so she went to check on the other men.

Sometime later he awoke. All his senses told him he was in a hospital. That was good. They'd fix his leg and he'd be back with the team. A voice beside him and he turned his head. He was in a ward .

"Well, bout time you woke up." He was young, barely nineteen and from the big grin on his face Chief knew he was in for a time. Hopefully he was a natterer. Chatters wanted answers, always trying to include you in the conversation. Natterers just liked to talk.

"I see you got hit in the leg too," as he pointed first to Chief's leg then his own as if Chief didn't know where their legs were. "I think this is the leg ward. Bernie, over there," and he pointed to the bed on the other side of his, "he was hit by shrapnel in the upper thigh. A few inches and he'd be singing soprano." He grinned wickedly, "Know what I mean?"

"Yeah, but I wasn't," came the playful voice of the unseen victim.

"My names Chuck, what's yours?"

"Just call me Chief," he said quietly and closed his eyes. He didn't feel too good. Maybe talking might help distract from how he felt but right now he didn't feel like answering questions.

"What unit you from?" To Chief,s dismay, Chuck was a chatter. "Hey you OK? Da ya need the nurse? Hey, gorgeous," Chuck yelled to the nurse, "Chief, here, needs your ministrations."

The sound of hurried footsteps approaching then stopping at his side brought his eyes open. A sweet young lady wearing a white uniform and nursing cap appeared at his side. "Can I get you anything? Do you need a bedpan?"

Shit, now that she mentioned it, he needed to take a leak but right now he just wanted to be left alone. Fortunately he also knew that in a hospital if the staff got busy that he would have to wait so he might as well go now. He nodded.

When he was finished she fixed his sheets and pillow and said, "My name is Nurse Gentry. Can I get you something to eat? You missed supper." He shook his head but she was undeterred. "I'll get you some soup and crackers. It'll help settle your stomach." That must be it, he thought. He'd had surgery before. This was similar.

"Hey Chief, ya didn't say what unit you're with. Bernie, here, and I are infantry. We call our unit Kingsmen cause our lieutenant was named King, Gerrold King. Even after he was killed we kept the name in his honour. So how about you?"

Might as well get it over with. "Special Forces. Garrison's Gorillas."

"Special Forces, huh? Never heard a ya. So what does Special Forces do?"

"Different stuff."

"What kinda stuff?"

"Can't tell you."

"Ah, secret stuff" he said in a conspiratorial whisper. "Loose lips and all that." He grinned. "Whad ya say your unit was, Garrison's Gorillas? That's neat. So are the resta you guys real hairy?" He looked over his shoulder to his fellow Kingsman and then back before finishing the joke, "You know like Gorillas? Hooo hoo hoo," he grunted in imitation. He laughed at his own joke and then watched Chief closely.

Chief glared at him and the smile faded. "No." Chief thought about Actor. He would not be impressed, being compared to a gorilla. Goniff, more a chimp than a great ape. Casino could grouch like one and could probably imitate one and Garrison? He was the boss and could act like one if he thought it would get the job done, the mission completed. No they were not the animals, they were the fighters.

Just then Miss Gentry arrived with a tray. She placed it on a cart and came over to help Chief sit up. That accomplished she brought the tray. Institutional food but he was used to that. After a few spoonfuls he wished he had accepted her offer of help, he felt weak and his hand had started to shake. He put the spoon down, he had enough. He lay back and closed his eyes. Chuck had tried talking to him but gave up getting answers. Chief now knew more than he cared to know about the man. Once the tray was removed the nurse removed the pillows so he could lay down. He closed his eyes hoping that would settle his stomach.

Morning, or more rightly, pre morning and he was awake. He wondered what the guys were doing. Had they got what they went for? Were they all right? He hated not knowing. All he could do was wait for Garrison to show up.

The Night Duty Nurse must have seen he was awake because she came to his bedside. "Don't worry," she said, misinterpreting the look of worry on his face. "The doctor said the vaccine was guaranteed to prevent the disease. And your leg wasn't badly damaged. You'll have a few small scars beside the other but nothing drastic."

Vaccine? "What vaccine?"

"You were bitten. You said it was a dog. After the crash. Do you remember? You were a bit under the weather by the time they brought you here."

"Yeah, I remember, but..?"

"When a person is bitten by an unknown animal, the doctor has to assume it was rabid."

"They weren't. They were starvin."

"They? There was more than one?"

"Pack of 'm, six or seven, maybe."

"You had to fight off a pack of wild dogs." She asked incredulously. He shrugged. "Wow. Well, everything will be all right. You'll see." She moved off to check on the rest of the patients. She was not comfortable with what he had to go through. This was one of those times she was glad she had the night shift.

Chief's piece and quiet was finally disrupted by the morning staff getting the patients ready for the day. Medication was being dispensed, bandages checked, vitals taken, rounds were being made. Finally the doctor arrived at his bed.

"How are you feeling?" The Doctors accent said American, a Yankee, "How is your leg? There is going to be pain for a time, what with that savage mauling you took." He checked the bandage, felt his toes, checked for swelling and then wrote on his chart. "The nurse will be round with your medication shortly." With that he moved off. A few minutes later, as predicted, the nurse arrived. He was torn. He wanted the relief from the pain in his leg and in his head but knew it would aggravated his already upset stomach. Maybe he could sleep through it and he would wake up feeling better.

Breakfast arrived so he ate some of the toast but respected his stomach's warning about the cereal and juice. He lay back and tried to get comfortable so he could sleep. Eventually the morphine kicked in and he slept.

One of the side effects of morphine for him was bad dreams and this time was no different so he latched on to the voice that called to him, the hand that touched his shoulder. His eyes opened to the sight of a dark haired angel smiling at him.

"I saved your dinner tray. The Doctor wants you to try to eat." Once she saw that he was awake she helped him sit up and placed the tray before him. The thought of eating held no appeal, he knew he should but his stomach had other ideas. Maybe if he ate slowly. He reached for the fork with a shaky hand and attempted to eat. It was not going well. In fact he could feel the threat of it coming back up. Using two hands he reached for the cup of tea but even that could not stop the tremors and the tea spilled on his plate before he got the cup to his lips. He took a sip and then another. That was all he could manage. He did not have the strength to put it back so he sat holding the cup. Fortunately the angel arrived and took the cup. "Just take it slowly. You're doing fine. Would you like some help?" She picked up the fork but he shook his head. She understood and removed the tray then helped him lay down.

Chief wanted to turn on his side but was hampered by his leg being in a sling. He had to settle for laying with his head turned. It helped ease his headache only fractionally and did nothing for his stomach.

"Hey Chief, you don't look too good. You all right?"

"Yeah." It was more grunted than spoken.

He may have dozed, but it was not restful. Pain was the prevailing sensation, pain and nausea. He was awakened by movement at his bedside. He opened his eyes. Chuck was getting his pills. Before he could close his eyes the nurse turned to him. Maybe the morphine would help. He doubted it, it didn't the last time.

The nurse, an older, grey haired woman with stern features began to take his vitals. He closed his eyes and waited. Instead of bearing his hip as he expected the nurse pulled the blanket down and lifted his shirt exposing his stomach. He opened his eyes at the unexpected invasion.

Ominously, there was a younger nurse with a cloth covered tray on the other side of his bed. He tensed as she swabbed a spot on his stomach. What the hell did his stomach have to do with his leg?

"Right, now, just relax." The younger woman had lowered the tray so the other nurse could reach it's contents. She removed the cloth but from his prone position Chief could not see the contents. Apprehension crept up to fear and his heart rate increased.


	6. Chapter 6

**Missing Scene Frame up**

**Chapter 6**

The Older Nurse reached up and picked up something from the tray. She brought her hand into position and he saw it was a syringe. He'd had needles before but never in his stomach. He waited. "Take a deep breath and hold it," instructed the nurse before she jabbed the needle in. "All right, now, just relax and breath."

Damn, it hurt. He'd had needles before but not like this. As the plunger was depressed the muscles of his stomach started to burn.

"Do not tighten up," she ordered coldly. "Keep your muscles relaxed."

That was easy for her to say, she was on the right end of the needle. Chief was finding it hard to breath, the pain and the struggle not to grab her and put an end to it, plus trying to hold still was taking all he had. He felt the sweat forming on is brow and his hands went cold.

Finally it was over, the needle withdrawn, and the area swabbed, and the masochists left after giving him a shot for the pain. What the hell was going on. Then it came to him, the vaccine. That had to be it. He had had vaccines before and they were always in the arm and the ones for pain were in the hip. What was with this stomach business? Damn, he swore again. The pain wasn't going away. He lay still, fists clenched, breathing deeply, trying to control the tremors and the pain. He dozed fitfully.

Supper arrived but Chief was in no mood to eat. The smell was enough to turn his stomach and the din from carts being rolled about, patients talking, laughing, nurses answering, someone calling from the hall, trays clattering, was driving the pain in his head to levels he was having trouble controlling. He wanted to get out of here or smash something but knew it would make his headache worse. A young girl, probably a volunteer appeared at his bedside to assist him. She was trying to be perky and upbeat which just irritated him further.

"Let's get you sitting up and then I'll help you with your supper. It looks delicious. Here, just lift your head and I'll…"

"NO!" he grunted through clenched teeth.

"Please, just a little." Gertrude had been told that some of the patients might be having a hard time adjusting to their wounded state especially if they were an amputee. They might be gruff or uncooperative. She was not to take it personally. Just get them to eat so they could get well.

"Not hungry." She hadn't left so he added, "Go help someone else." He closed his eyes and turned away from her.

Not sure what to do she did as he told her. The tray was left and Chuck enjoyed her assistance even though he didn't really need it.

Chief was in pain. He wouldn't show it or admit it but it was real none the less. His leg ached from the bullet wound and now it burned from the bites. His abdomen hurt like hell from the shot he had had. Around his navel was irritated as was the underlying muscle. He was glad that was over. He felt sick and shaky.

It seemed to take forever for the hub-bub to die down but eventually it did. The much hoped for sleep seemed to take forever to arrive as well but when it did the dreams were worse than the reality. He was facing a pack of rabid dogs. He tried to run but his leg was stuck in the sling and he could not get it free. He twisted and turned but he was caught. The sling turned into a dog that was gnawing on his leg. He tried to yell but he could not make a sound.

He woke to the sound of his attempts to scream. He turned in the bed just enough to make sure his leg was still there and un-chewed on. That dream was just too realistic. He lay still, breathing deeply in an attempt to slow his racing heart, the beat of which was not helping his headache.

The day staff arrived and the morning ritual began again. The Doctor made his rounds, vitals were taken and charts were updated. The day was a repeat of the previous one. Breakfast arrived. Again Chief tried to eat but he was not hungry. His leg ached. The sight of powdered eggs held no appeal nor did the cream of wheat cereal. He was going to push it away when his angel moved in beside his bed.

"You don't want your breakfast do you?" He shook his head but she suggested he nibble on the toast. "It's bland enough that it shouldn't bother your stomach and no one can report that you didn't eat." She gave him a conspiratorial smile and raised her eyebrows before she moved off. He just looked at her then shrugged. He ate a bit of the toast and drank the tea. To make matters worse, Miss Perky was back. By the time she reached his bed he had had enough. Her encouragement irritated him and he told her to go help someone else. It seemed it did not take much to irritate him now. Pain did that to him which was why he withdrew when he hurt. Here there was no where to go. He was stuck in a bed, surrounded by cheerful chatty people, miserable and hurting.

Chuck never stopped talking and if it wasn't him it was the guy on the other side. He just wanted them all to shut up. He pushed the tray away, pulled the pillows out from behind him, dropping them onto the floor, and lay back down. He put his arm over his eyes and tried to block it all out.

He withdrew. He tried sleeping or faking sleep just so Chuck would leave him alone. He eventually did but that left him with time on his hands. A bored Chief was not a happy Chief. He flipped through a magazine that had been left but there was nothing to interest him. If he were back at their base he would sneak out onto the grounds but when he tried lifting his leg out of the sling his abdominal muscles screamed even after he relaxed.

The arrival of lunch had not seen his mood improve. He had no desire to eat, and only reluctantly sat up. He ate what little he could but sitting up just made his headache worse. He accepted help for a bit but that did not last. He was tired and he hurt so covered his weakness with gruffness. He warned people off with his attitude. It was what he had always done, it was second nature to him.

A couple of hours after lunch he received the bombshell. The vaccine was not just one shot. He was going to have to submit to this for fourteen days, two weeks of this pain and nausea and headaches. How was he supposed to put up with this? Where was Garrison? Maybe if he knew they were all right it might be easier. Who was he kidding? Nothing would make this easier. He wished he was back in prison. His attitude took a nose dive as his anger rose.

He refused to even sit up for supper. He knew he should eat and if he cared to check, he was probably hungry but it was the only thing he could control. He did not want or need the shots but he got them anyway. He wanted out of here but he could not get his leg out of the sling and he refused to _ask for permission _to leave. Even in prison you were allowed to leave your cell unless there was a lock down. He could not even take a leak without help. He hated being confined or having to rely on other people for everything. Together they made his life intolerable. He welcomed sleep. Even the nightmares passed the time.

The morning ritual was underway. Amanda helped a patient sit up for breakfast as she kept an eye on the doctor and his nurse as he checked Chief's leg. Not once did the doctor mention his stomach. She heard Chief say he did not need the shots but the doctor ignored him. She watched as they moved off to the next patient. The look on Chief's face did not bode well for the doctor's well being. She moved in closer and asked, "So what would you do?"

He turned to her in surprise but the dark look was only partially concealed, the pain was not. "What?"

"I said, what would happen to the good doctor if you caught up to him in a dark alley." She said it with a smile in hopes to lighten his mood.

Chief turned away from her. He didn't want her to see what he was thinking because that was what he had been thinking, how he would hurt him, slowly, make him scream. … It embarrassed him that she had seen that side of him. She wouldn't like him if she knew. Eventually she would find out and refuse to have anything to do with him but for now he liked having her being nice to him.

She leaned in closer and said quietly, "You wouldn't be the first, you know, to wish him harm."

He was surprised and looked around the room to see who else felt the same way.

The day followed the established pattern. The evening found him feverish and uncooperative. The supper trays had been removed and the ward was settling down to letter reading and writing.

Someone must have ratted on him because the doctor arrived. "I hear you are refusing to eat. I will not tolerate disobedience in my hospital. If you wish to continue to receive treatment here then you will eat each meal that you are served. You should be grateful for the care you are receiving here. As a civilian you could be shipped to the local hospital where the care would not be nearly as good." If he expected gratitude or respect he was to be disappointed.

Chief immediately got his back up. He would not let anyone talk to him like he was a piece of garbage. In prison, that was guaranteed to get you beat up and robbed or worse. No one had then and no one would now. He did not care if he got thrown out of this hospital or any other one. Maybe they would just ship him back to prison or to their base. He did not care. "I don't need the damn shots."

"I say you do and in this hospital what I say goes. You will receive the treatment I deem necessary and you will eat, one way or another." With that he turned and strode out of the Ward.

"Bullshit," whispered Chief to himself. That was a challenge if he ever heard one and one he would take up.

"Now you look here," said Amanda. She had watched the patient being disrespectful to the Doctor. It was normal for some patients to not eat at first. Pain and its medication had that effect but as they were weaned off the morphine their attitudes improved. This man's was not. He was getting worse and she had had enough. "The Doctor ordered those shots to save your life. Yes they hurt but that is no reason to take it out on us. You have been surly, uncooperative and all round nasty. You have no right to treat us like this when all we're trying to do is get you well. Instead we have to spend extra time with you that we could be spending with other patients who appreciate us and want to get well. Now I expect to see a little cooperation and you eating. If you don't, the Doctor is going to order you be force fed and that's no picnic. So shape up."

Amanda had had enough. She was tired, worried about her brother who was fighting in the Pacific and two nights ago her cat had not come home. She had gone looking and found him injured. He had not eaten since and she feared he was going to die. One last straw, that difficult patient's refusal once again to eat and that was all it took. She let it all out, then left the ward, the floor and the building.

A long walk in the cold and wet was enough to hide the tears that continued to fall until she was cried out. She finally wiped her face and turned home. A hot bath, a cup of tea and a good nights sleep saw her awake with new resolve. Her cat was still not eating but that was no reason to take it out on the patients, well one patient in particular. She would apologise when she saw him. Maybe she would tell him why she had been so angry.

Amanda walked slowly to the bed and sat. There was no sound in the room, not even his breathing. Laying there so still, she had to look to his chest to reassure her self that he was still alive, just like her cat. She had sat stroking her cat last night, leaving her hand to linger on its chest to be sure. The cat and this man, both laying so still, not eating, dying before her eyes and there was nothing she could do. She felt the pain of impending death, her pain at losing, the pain her cat must feel from what ever injury he had sustained, the man's pain from the leg wound, the shots. And then she knew.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

She Knew. The two were in pain. That was why he wouldn't eat. Just at that moment she saw his eyelids move. He was waking. She waited until his eyes opened. His hands moved up to his chest but he did not turn to look at her. "You 'n my cat. You're in pain and that's why you won't eat" she said softly.

"I'm not your cat." The voice was just a broken whisper.

"No, your not, you're ears are too small, you don't shed all over the place, and your whiskers are too short." She smiled hoping he could see her but there was no reaction. "But you **are** in pain." He automatically shook his head in denial. "I took one of the needles they use and jabbed myself in the stomach just like they do to you. It hurt, a lot. To have to look forward to that, much less the vaccine that I know has side effects, 'cause I asked, to have to face that every day, I wouldn't want that. You're in pain and the only way you know how to handle it is to not eat."

Again he shook his head but then it turned into a tiny nod. It was true. He couldn't eat when he was in pain or scared and right now he was both **and** he was tired of fighting but he couldn't give in completely so he said, "but I'm not your cat." .

She chuckled, a happy sound, a sound of relief and her eyes filled with tears of joy. "I'll bring you anything you want. Tea and toast, biscuits and jam, or maybe some soup. You name it and I'll get it for you, anytime, day or night. Just tell me."

When she started her shift she would begin at one end and work her way down her section. By the time she had helped two semi mobile patients to the loo and back, taken vitals from another three she reached Chief's bed. He was laying, eyes closed, as usual, breakfast barely touched. "How you feeling?" He opened his eyes without enthusiasm. "The sun is shining." He may have grunted. "Would you like to go see for yourself?" That got his attention and his eyes moved to hers. "You have to eat a bit more first." She had thought to use that as motivation but it backfired. He closed his eyes and turned away. "How about I take you out to the sunroom and you eat there?" That worked, sort of. He turned and looked at her with suspicion. She got up and left, returning with a wheel chair. With a little help from an orderly he was transferred to the chair and she began to push him down the hall. When they arrived Chief's spirits lifted. The room was large with rows or south and east facing windows. The hardwood floors virtually glowed in the sun. Chief smiled as he was manoeuvred over by the window. He reached out and placed his palm on the glass feeling first the coolness of the glass then the warmth from the sun. The sounds from the hall faded, the feeling of confinement eased and, though the pain was still there, he relaxed.

Amanda watched the transformation in her patient. Moving quickly she returned to the ward and brought his breakfast tray. Placing it in front of Chief, she pulled up a chair and sat.

Somehow it was easier to eat here, he did not feel so confined, like in prison. After eating the toast and jam he asked, "How's your cat?"

"He was too sick." Her voice was tight, controlled.

"I'm sorry. I had a dog once. He got bit in a fight. Musta got infected." He felt the pain in his heart. He had loved that dog.

"It's hard to lose them."

"Yeah, but we keep on doin' it."

"Yes, we do," and she smiled a sad sweet smile.

Chief liked that smile and it brought an answering smile to his face.

"You like being out of doors." It was not a question but he nodded anyway as he drank his tea.

"Always have."

This became their daily ritual, she brought him here for his breakfast and tea. She did not always stay, her services were required in the ward but she made sure he was brought here. And it was not the sun, even rainy days or fog seemed to bring him peace. Knowing he would be here made tolerating the shots easier a well. Eventually they would end and he would be free but for now this would do.

When the guys show up they told him all their adventures and the troubles they went through while he was laying around smiling at the nurses. He just smiled and agreed. Actor saw the gleam in his eye and knew something had happened but knew Chief would say nothing. If it had been Goniff or Casino, they would not be able to help themselves. They would have the story told and probably embellished in no time. Not Chief. He was like the Warden and himself, for that matter. He would say nothing and no one would ever know.

Actor smiled and wondered how he could find out.


	8. Chapter 8

**Epilogue **

Wild Clover suggested Chief deserved more than a box of bonbons after what he had been through.

Four men stepped down off the train and moved off to the side. It was mid morning and the worst of the traffic had already come and gone. On the way they had discussed their plans for their twenty-four hour leaves. Actor was meeting up with a woman he had met the last time they were in London. Goniff was taking Casino to a pub in the east end near where he had grown up. Casino had not been there before and seeing as they probably were not welcome back at The Hounds, they thought they would try it. Chief figured he would join them for a time. If he got bored, he would take off on his own. They were about to separate when a voice called out, "Hey, Rudy". It was a young woman's voice and all four heads turned. Actor's feminine radar had him looking out of general interest. He smiled at the woman who was looking in their direction. Goniff was hoping for some female company and looked to see if she was alone or had a friend. Maybe she was calling her brother. He smiled at her in hope. Casino snapped around. Who knew him by that name here? He looked but did not recognize her or anyone else around. He smiled at her in relief and maybe a little hopefully. Chief turned. He knew.

She approached, hurrying at first, then slowed, not entirely sure of herself. "Hello, again," she said carefully. She saw the other men watching her. They made her just a little nervous but what the heck, it would only be for a moment. Then smiling coyly, directly at Chief, she added, "Ruddy."

What come out of Chief's mouth shocked his three friends to the point they turned in stunned silence and stared at him and then the girl, neither of whom acknowledged their actions. He said, "Meow."

The young woman's face lit up and she stepped closer and into Chief's open arms. He held her close for a moment and then released her. She was not pretty in the classic sense, her face a little too long, her hair wind blown and frizzy from the rain but her smile brought a twinkle and a warmth to her eyes. "I didn't think I would ever see you again. But I'm glad I did. Are you in town for long? Maybe …" That was when she noticed the others eyes on her. "Oh, I'm sorry," and she started to step back but Chief grabbed her hand.

"Guys, this is Amanda. She's the nurse who saved my life in the hospital the last time when I got shot in the leg." She tried to protest but he continued on introducing his team mates. Goniff, on an impulse, hugged her and gave her a peck on the cheek. She smiled and blushed so Casino did the same. Not to be outdone, Actor introduced himself and taking her hand, he kissed it.

That about took her breath away, that and the pounding of her heart. She had never had so much male, and very handsome male, attention. It left her speechless even though she had meant to protest Chief giving her so much credit.

"I gotta twenty four hour pass, if you, uh …."

Finally remembering her manners, she said, "Would anyone like a cuppa tea. There's a place just down the way."

Actor would have loved to accompany her and ask her about Chief's stay in the hospital but knew he would be intruding. He nudged the others and indicated they should go. Then turning back to Amanda he said, "Thank you for you kind invitation but we have already made plans. Delighted to have made your acquaintance. Maybe some other time." He took her hand and kissed it again. He turned away and said, "Come, gentlemen. London awaits."

Casino turned to go, stopped and looked back. With his head slightly tilted and a puzzled smile on his face, he asked, "Why'd you call 'm Rudy?"

Amanda looked at him with complete innocence and said, "Did I?" Then the look of innocence melted into a knowing grin. Casino returned the grin. It was obviously an in-joke, that neither one would explain, yet. She turned back to Chief. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to take you from your friends. I just …"

"I can see them anytime," interrupted Chief. "Can I buy you that cuppa tea?"

"That would be nice," and she smiled. "There's a little place down the next block." They walked in comfortable silence until they reached the first intersection. As they waited for the few cars to pass she said, "You certainly have nice weather for your leave."

"Yeah, I am lucky," and he looked her in the eye, "especially seeing as you showed up." He was rewarded with a blush. Afraid of being too forward he also did not want to lose her, so he waited for a break in the traffic then caught up her hand and said, "Let's go." There was no hesitation as she held his hand. He had thought to release it when they reached the far curb but she continued the reciprocated pressure. When they reached the shop they looked in the window and saw a packed house.

"We could go in and wait for a table or maybe, go back to my place. My room mate won't mind."

Chief looked at the crowd and then at the girl by his side. "You sure? Cause we could look for someplace else."

"It'll be fine," and she stepped away pulling her very willing subject beside her. "Besides I want to show you my new kitten. I miss Rudy so much I called her Rudy too. She's so sweet." It was a long walk but the weather was good and Amanda knew her former patient enjoyed being outdoors. Along the way she pointed out some of the highlights along the way.

Chief was enjoying listening to her talk. She was so calm but there was a happiness, a joy in being alive that was infectious. "How'd you know all this stuff? You're not from around here."

She laughed a happy laugh. "When I first got here, I was so afraid I would get lost that I got a map and went exploring. Along the way I met a local woman, a Mrs Beth Lightfield. She's lived her whole life here and when she saw me walking around and she gave me the grand tour. I still make a point of going to see her at least once a week. She is such a fine woman," she said and then added wistfully, "she reminds me of my Mother."

They lapsed into silence, she remembering her loss and he, her telling him that she had arrived in England to help nurse the wounded just one week before her Mother had died. She did not have enough money to return so she had stayed.

They arrived at the flat she shared with two other women, a third floor walk up. One room mate was away, the other met them as they came in. Chief was apprehensive, worried about what kind of reception he might get but after giving him the once over, she smiled and welcomed him.

Amanda introduced the two and then noticing her purse she asked Rose Marie if she was going out.

"Well, I was going to see Anna but I could stay and make you some tea and biscuits if you would like."

"No, that's all right. We can manage. Say hello for me and tell her I'll drop by another time."

"You sure?" Rose Marie asked tentatively with a quick look at Chief.

"Amanda, I better be going. It was nice meeting you, Rose Marie." He started to turn but was stopped by Amanda's hand on his arm.

"Yes, I'm sure. I'll be all right," she said to her worried room mate, and then turned to Chief and said, "Right?"

"Yes, Ma'am. We could go for a walk if you would like." He held the door for Rose Marie then waited for Amanda to exit only she didn't. He watched her questioningly as she pulled him into the sitting room. He sat as she went into the kitchen and put the tea on. When it was ready she poured then came and sat close beside him. They talked as they drank and ate the biscuits she had brought out. In a conspiratorial whisper she told him not to tell Rose Marie she had taken some of her sweets. Seeing the slight frown she laughed and said they shared.

When he put his cup down she took his hand and asked how his stomach was. She smiled when he said it was fine, then leaned against him. He placed his arm around her and his hand on her arm. She continued to stroke his hand. It felt calming, soothing, and stirred something deep inside him.

Chief was living in the moment. He knew if he thought about it he would leave but it felt so right. She smelled good, of flowers and sunshine. She reached over and placed her open hand on his chest. His body responded. She looked up at him and he leaned down and kissed her, gently at first, then deeper, more passionately. She laid her head on his chest as her hand descended.


End file.
